As the preamble goes: not everything was bad in Soviet times! And most importantly - people trusted each other more and rarely someone passed the track by the car with a raised cap, without stopping and asking if you need help? And now it stops... yes.
So, in October 1981, the airport of the glorious city-hero of Volgograd. I and two of my colleagues are returning from the seminar, we have been sitting at the airport for a day, there is no departure. I, as the youngest of all, was instructed to go to the train station and see if there is no way to get home by train. I went slightly, learned that there are almost no chances, I return and can not find my companions!!! A familiar on the face of the aunt (in the course of the day, everyone looked at me) pleased me: Did the window on Samara, they flew away! The situation: in the pockets of the stuff and a towel, in the storage chamber a suitcase and a box with gallets and marmelade - a shortage at the time (not everything was good in Soviet times, the shortage was!). The chip of the storage chamber in the cosmetic bag, the cosmetic bag in the bag, the bag was with the companions, now I don't know where. I get a towel, ready to cry - alone in a strange city, without money, tickets, passports and storage camera tokens. The hypothesis. Here by loud communication announce my surname-name-fatherland-city and ask to go to the police department. Ura! I have never loved my family so much. I am wiped out of tears and tears, they pour tea and give me a bag: passport here, tickets and money here, no cosmetics! There is a token! Write a protocol, return the bag without cosmetics. I drop into the storage chamber, explain the situation, fill out a statement: describe what lies in the suitcase on top! I understand that I don’t remember, I almost lose consciousness, it’s good that the guest box was signed by my name. In short, all were handed over, even for the lost token no fine was taken.
A window opens in the sky, they give a plane to Samara, I decide to fly - closer to my city. They arrived. And in Samara, the airport is far from the city, and already at night, I fell asleep in the bus, affected by a day and a half without sleep. I get out of the bus with everyone, the night I don’t know where to go. Everyone went to the side of the station, and I broke behind everyone - in one hand a suitcase, in the other a box with candy cakes, large, uncomfortable to carry. Suddenly, both of them are so gently taken out of my hands by two young men. It would be now that I would give everything and go through so that they’t be killed, and then I’t even be afraid. “Girl, we’ll help you, we’ll go to the station too!”
At the station the same situation as at the airport - people are full, there is nowhere to sit. I extend my wallet to my assistants and ask them to take a ticket for any train to my city and cut myself off again. How much time has passed, I don’t know, but my assistants wake me up and take me on the train. We put things in, we put things in, good luck! I sleep without bed and without back legs. I finally lie!
I wake up in the morning, behind the window of the station with the name of my city, the train is moving quietly - either it brakes, or it accelerates. Lost to walk by the house! “Where you went, we have not yet arrived!”
And just standing on the perron, I finally felt how tired I was! I am finally home! The adventure is over!
And my cosmetic with a token my colleague second-handed into his bag. A long token from the storage chamber of the station of Volgograd was my talisman: in the Soviet country a man will not be given an abyss!